ZOMBIE'S DOOM? "Chronicles of Jack Doom" by Will Lemen Page A

woman answered smiling, as she watched the Sarge gaze at his saliva as it creped down her breast and dripped off her left nipple.
    Beth turned away from the two fondling lushes and stared into the campfire, no longer listening to their alcohol-induced banter.
    " Don't worry Ron, I give you my word, it will never ever happen again, because as soon as I find the right people, I'm going to kill you just before I leave with them ," Beth thought, as she rubbed her swollen lip before taking a sip of her own beer that she had been hiding from Ron.
     
    ******
     
    Before Beth, along with the Sarge, Jack and his family, and the men that were killed on the mission to procure more powerful weapons for their group, left the safety of the YMCA compound and drove their modified school bus to the National Guard Armory. She had been known as somewhat of the resident psychopath, a psychopath that you would definitely want on your side in a fight.
    Her petite stature combined with her uncanny prowess with the .22 rifle she wielded, along with other zombie killing techniques as well as her nerves of steel under fire, were becoming the stuff of legend around the Y.
    Almost rivaling the legend of Jack Doom in Iraq and Afghanistan. Almost being the key word here.
    After abandoning Jack and his family, Beth and the Sarge had returned to their YMCA stronghold only to find it burned out and deserted, with the dead bodies of zombies and many of their friends lying in the hallways torn to pieces and charred beyond recognition.
    As they surveyed the sickening carnage, they weren't quite sure what had taken place during their absence.
    All they knew for sure was that the building had been burnt from the inside as if gasoline had been poured in the hallways and then ignited, all the supplies and equipment were ruined, and there were mass casualties consisting of both their fellow comrades and members of the zombie hordes scattered all around. In addition to the grisly scene of dead bodies everywhere, of course, the building was filled with the ever-present undaunted flies, smoke and fire damage was ubiquitous, and the smell of burnt plastic and gasoline fumes was over powering.
    All of which rendered the YMCA no longer fit for human habitation.
    Beth was now traveling with the Sarge because she didn't want to be left alone, and although they had run into a few small groups of people after leaving Jack and his family, she had not felt comfortable enough with any of them to part with Ron. Even though the beatings he was inflicting upon her were becoming more frequent and severe.
    However, being the alleged psychopath that she was. She wasn't about to forget the way the Sarge had been treating her, and no matter how long she traveled with the man, or how many times he may have saved her from as he so aptly put it, those sinister sons-a-bitches , she was still determined to get even with him, sooner or later, one way or another.
     
    ******
     
    Barreling (if you can call 29 mph barreling) east on interstate 40, in his gray pick-up truck, Jack see's that the vehicle's fuel gauge is starting to point a little south...
     
    ******
     
    "I need to stop for gas the next chance I get," I mumbled to myself. "And maybe pick up a map of Oklahoma too."
    About six miles inside the Oklahoma border from Texas, sat the once sleepy little town of Erick Oklahoma. I say once sleepy little town, because like most if not all towns in the country and probably the world, Erick Oklahoma had died in its sleep.
    After seeing the sign that signaled a prime spot for collecting a tank full of gasoline was just ahead, I took the next exit ramp off the interstate and pulled a hairy right turn into a truck stop that sat right off the freeway.
    "Eaters in the parking lot, I hope that means no feral dogs," I said aloud, as I aimed my truck at the nearest zombie.
    A metallic bumping sound vibrated through the truck as a tall slim female member of the rotting dead bounced off the right front